


in parts

by kamsangi



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cock Warming, Collars, Consensual Kink, Established Relationship, Explicit content is only between Chan and Felix, Face-Fucking, Hand Feeding, Kneeling, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Non-sexual puppy play between Chan and the other members, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Puppy Play, Submissive Bang Chan, Subspace, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:21:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27956816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamsangi/pseuds/kamsangi
Summary: Chris lets his eyes fall shut, feels the collar sit snugly around his neck, and feels his breath slip through the last of his defenses.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Everyone, Bang Chan/Lee Felix, Bang Chan/Stray Kids Ensemble
Comments: 20
Kudos: 325





	in parts

**Author's Note:**

> for the cc anon who dropped puppy!chan into my inbox, and also [this](https://twitter.com/MNCHNLX/status/1335031365247643656) thread.
> 
> i haven't written something like this in a very long time, so please do not take this as any sort of proper guide or reference for an actual d/s relationship. this is all really just very self-indulgent and whatnot [handwaves] and part of my chan/skz agenda.

The bottom of his mug scrapes against tile, harsh and jarring.

Chris flinches. The sound echoes in his ears, bouncing through his brain and crawling down his throat before making its home under his skin. Unpleasant, raw, like an itch he can’t scratch to satisfy. The ghost of whatever’s been bothering him for the last few days, living under his uncut fingernails and the notches of his teeth.

It’s not that there’s something wrong, exactly. Nothing’s changed.

Something just doesn’t feel quite right.

“Chan-hyung?”

He glances up, palms still braced against the kitchen counter. Changbin’s looking up at him, mouth twisted in a frown. “You good?”

Chris considers the question. Considers if he should tell the truth, if he should smile it off and say that he just needs a bit more sleep (that’s partially true, too). If he should say there’s nothing wrong, because he’s the one who’s supposed to be looking out for them. “I—” he starts, but the one word snatches the rest of his breath away.

Worn out, worn down. Fraying at the seams. Off-kilter and wavering.

His hand comes up to rub at his throat absently. “No,” he finally says. “M’not.”

Changbin’s expression softens. “Hey,” he says. “You haven’t asked for anything in a while, you know. It’s okay if you want to. You’re allowed to.”

Chris’ gaze slides over to the dinner table, where Seungmin and Minho are sitting with their phones. They haven’t said a word the entire time, not since he’d walked through the door with this strange, unhappy mood hanging over his head, but he knows they’re paying attention. They always are, those two.

Seungmin meets his eyes and asks, voice as calm as ever, “Can we take care of you?”

He’s allowed to have this. He is.

“Yeah,” Chris says, voice soft. “Yes, please.”

“Then, go get your collar,” Seungmin says patiently, “and bring it here.”

It’s kept in the same place it’s always been. A box in the lowest drawer of the desk in his, Changbin and Felix’s room. It’s nothing too fancy. Just plain black, simple, something he’d picked out on his own. His collar.

Chris brushes the invisible dust off it as he pads back towards the dining table to set it down in front of them. “Good boy,” Minho says, and something in the back of Chris’ mind starts clicking into place again, bit by bit.

“You haven’t eaten yet, haven’t you?”

“No,” Chris admits, “I forgot.”

“You’ll have to eat something first.”

“I know, I just—forgot.” Eating’s been the last thing on his mind today. “I didn’t think I’d be needing this.”

Seungmin undoes the latch on the box. “Come here,” he says, and Chris steps over, before dropping to the floor, knees thumping against the hardwood lightly.

The leather is cool against his skin, but Seungmin’s hands are warm and practiced, tucking the collar around his neck. Chris lets his eyes fall shut, feels the collar sit snugly around his neck, and feels his breath slip through the last of his defenses.

It’s grounding.

Seungmin curls two fingers into the back of his collar to check the fit, and asks, “Alright?”

“Yes.” Chris still hasn’t opened his eyes, readjusting to the feeling of having something solid tying him to the world again. “Thank you.”

“Good,” Seungmin says. “Take your clothes off, and kneel next to Jeongin and Changbin-hyung.”

He sheds his clothes perfunctorily, and leaves them neatly folded beside him. It’s easy slipping back into this, even after what feels like weeks. The others telling him what to do. Him, obeying easily. Wanting to be good for them, just for them, no one else.

Jeongin holds a mug out. “Up,” he says, and Chris lets Jeongin tilt the cup against his mouth. The water’s cold on his tongue. Some of it dribbles down his throat and onto the floor. “We should get him a new bowl. He always makes such a mess.”

“Next time,” Seungmin agrees, “something with his name on it, huh?”

Changbin snickers. “Slap the group logo onto it.” He holds an apple slice out, and Chris takes it from him with his teeth, careful to not accidentally nip him. It splits in his mouth, fresh and sweet. “Just to show that he’s ours.”

“You know he’d love that too much.” Seungmin hands Changbin a banana. “Here. Make sure he eats all of it.”

Chris does. He lets them take turns feeding him bits of fruit as he kneels there, only half-listening to them talk about what they’re thinking of doing during the holidays once they roll around again. Chris hasn’t given it much thought. All he’s let himself think about these days is how to do better. To _be_ better—

There’s a loud snap, and Chris winces, chancing a glance up in the direction it’d come from. “Hey,” Minho says, stern. “Pay attention when you’re eating.”

His heart drops. He hadn’t realised he’d zoned out to his own thoughts. Stuck in his head, again and again. “Sorry,” Chris whispers, fingers curling into his knees, “I’ll be good.”

Minho’s expression doesn’t change, but his voice is less firm when he says, “Finish your water.”

He’s licking the last dregs of his water from the cup Jeongin’s holding out to him when the front door opens with a call of, “We’re back!”

“Kitchen,” Changbin calls. “You got my snacks?”

“Yeah, yeah, dude, of course we did. You think I’d forget?”

“You always do.”

Jisung skitters to a stop beside them, and drops to press a kiss to Chris’ temple. “Hi, puppy,” he greets, “been good for them? I’m sure you have, huh? Who’s our best boy?”

Behind him, Hyunjin appears. “I haven’t seen you in your collar for so long!” he says, sounding delighted as he gives Chris a pat on the head. “So cute.”

Chris’ face flushes at all the attention. The praise fills his chest, chasing away all the achy, unbearable feelings he’s been harbouring for far too long on his own.

Minho notices, and pats his knee, beckoning him over. Chris shuffles over, sits, and rests his chin on Minho’s thigh, a pleased noise rising in his throat when Minho combs his fingers through Chris’ hair, fingernails just barely scraping across his scalp. Back and forth, back, forth. “Look at you,” Minho comments, rubbing at the nape of his neck right where his hair curls over the collar. “Always so eager, aren’t you?”

Chris whines, blinking up at Minho with big eyes. Of course he is.

He’d do anything for them.

“I know.” Minho brushes a knuckle over his cheek. “I know.”

The clock on the wall ticks down. Chris shuts his eyes, only knowing the warmth of the hand in his hair and the occasional strokes down his back. Warm, safe, comfortable. He’s just beginning to drift off when he hears Felix’s voice ask, “Mind if I borrow him?”

Chris opens his eyes just as Minho says, “Sure.”

Felix’s smile is big and bright. “Come keep me company?”

Maybe he’s just a little biased. Just a tiny bit. He loves all of the boys so much, every single one of them—but Felix is exceptionally, undeniably precious in a way Chris can’t begin to describe.

“It’s been a while since you’ve done this for me, huh,” Felix murmurs, pushing Chris’ hair back from his forehead, and Chris makes a soft sound around the slow, sweet affection in his chest, nosing at his hand. “Your favourite thing to do.”

It is, especially with Felix. Chris shifts closer, knelt between Felix’s legs under his desk, and nuzzles at the line of his dick through his sweatpants. He’s not hard yet, so Chris mouths at him until he begins to stir, swelling slowly until Felix finally tugs himself out, stroking himself once, twice, before letting Chris lean forward to lick at him, tiny little licks until he’s completely hard, until Felix is exhaling and telling him to open up.

Chris parts his lips obediently, lets Felix rub at his soft, plush mouth with the head of his cock. “You’re so pretty like this,” Felix whispers, and Chris whimpers, feeling his own dick throb at the praise. He’s not allowed to touch himself, though—not unless Felix lets him. He focuses on the sound of Felix’s voice, on the feeling of his hand in Chris’ hair, on the way he tastes.

“You remember how to tap out?” At Chris’ nod, Felix says, “Show me.”

Chris wraps his fingers around Felix’s calf, and squeezes. Once, twice, thrice. Three times for stop, never anything else.

“Good pup,” Felix says, “open up wide, now.”

Chris lets Felix slide his cock into his mouth. The stretch takes a moment to get used to, but he’s hot and heavy on Chris’ tongue and it makes the spit pool in his mouth, the taste of him overwhelming and familiar and so good. Slowly, he slides forward enough into Felix’s lap that he can rest his cheek against Felix’s stomach as he suckles at his cock, his arms coming up to curl around Felix’s waist for leverage.

Felix strokes his fingers through Chris’ hair, gentle and soothing. Seconds pass, and Chris’ shoulders start to unwind, going lax as Felix continues to pet him, sweet and slow. The tension falls away from him. The weariness, the hurt. There’s nothing else here now, nothing but Felix’s lovely fingers and the weight of his cock in Chris’ mouth. On his knees, mouth filled and used, all for Felix.

 _Safe, warm, loved,_ goes the primal part of Chris’ brain, the part that wants to stay like this forever.

He doesn’t have to think. He doesn’t have to speak, or give his opinion on anything, or be whatever people want him to be that day. He just has to be here and be good. _I can be good,_ Chris thinks, eyes falling shut as Felix puts a video on, the noise washing over him in waves.

He doesn’t know how much time passes. Everything slows down for him when he’s like this. He can feel Felix’s pulse on his tongue, the cold air against his naked skin, Felix’s hand rubbing along the length of his collar. He can still hear the sound of something playing on the computer, but he can’t tell if it’s the same video, or if it’s the fifth, or the tenth one. It doesn’t matter. The only thing that does is the way he feels, calm and in his head in a way that doesn’t make him feel trapped.

Felix’s hand slips to his cheek. “Doing okay?”

Chris sucks in a deep breath through his nose, and squeezes Felix’s hip twice. _Okay._

“Okay,” Felix murmurs. “D’you want to stay like this a little longer, or can I fuck your face? One for the first, two for the second.”

The words stir him back into the present.

Chris squeezes twice. Felix always gives him the choice, even after Chris has told him over and over that he can just take what he wants. He’s too sweet on him. He always has been.

Felix curls his fingers into Chris’ hair, tugging him off. There’s drool down the corners of Chris’ mouth already, a line of spit connecting his wet, red lower lip to the head of Felix’s cock. Chris whines and licks it away, feeling his gut prickle with heat when Felix’s grip tightens. He wants Felix back in his mouth _now._

“Fuck,” Felix whispers, pupils blown, voice hoarse. “You look so good like this.”

Chris lets his tongue loll out of his mouth, making a desperate little noise that has Felix guiding him forward once more. Chris stretches his lips wide over Felix’s cock, holding them open as Felix begins to slowly fuck his face, rolling his hips up into his mouth as he kneels there, knees aching, jaw sore. Spit and pre-come leak down his chin, wet and filthy. It’s too much and not enough at the same time.

He whimpers, eyes fluttering when Felix tugs at his hair just hard enough to make it hurt. He loves it, loves being used mindlessly like this, just for Felix to get off.

“Open,” Felix tells him, and Chris does, letting Felix rub the head of his cock along Chris’ mouth until he’s coming across his tongue and lips and chin, sticky and hot and filling him up the way he should.

Chris lets his eyes open blearily. He hasn’t closed his mouth, tongue idly pushing at the come in his mouth, between his teeth, spilling down his skin.

“Swallow,” Felix says, and Chris does, before he moves to lick around the head of Felix’s cock, cleaning off whatever’s left. He’s aching to be touched at this point, but Felix still hasn’t said that he’s allowed to. “You wanna come too, huh?”

Chris bites his lip and whines, needy and low.

Felix laughs, breathy and fond. “You can touch yourself,” he says, and Chris’ voice breaks on a moan when he finally wraps a hand around himself. He hadn’t even noticed how wet, how slick with pre-come he is. It barely takes any time at all before he’s coming in stripes across his hand, across the floor.

He feels light-headed, flushed. Aching, but in a good way. He floats again, the high of his orgasm wrapped within the indulgence of being allowed to be here on his knees for what’s seemed like hours. Everything is muted, softer, righter. The ghost is gone. The itch under his skin—soothed and sated. Kept at bay for another day to come.

He just wants to keep feeling like this. Caught between moments. Safe and sound.

Felix strokes his hair, his breath slowing too. “Mm. Yeah, that’s it. Who’s a good boy?”

“Me,” Chris murmurs, cheek resting against Felix’s thigh. “I’m a good boy.”

**Author's Note:**

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